Insane
by Poof-There It Is
Summary: ...Just like her uncle.
1. Gilly Weed

A/N: Hi! I'm new here. Reviews are appreciated.

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'_Gilly Weed.'_

The words etched themselves, in a messy, scribbly manuscript, onto the margin of her parchment.

Roxanne blinked.

The words were still there.

The young girl sighed.

So. I've gone nutters, she thought. Crazy. Insane. Completely bonk—

"Miss Weasley," the voice of Professor Longbottom, teacher of Herbology, roused her from her thoughts.

She looked up, hesitantly, "Yes, Professor?"

"Do you have an answer?"

She scowled, hearing a few Slytherin snicker in the background.

An answer. An answer? To _what _question? Damn her inattentiveness to hell. Herbology had always been her least favorite subject, and now that was going to cost her some house points.

But _what _if…?

Her eyes fell to the dubious inscription on her parchment.

Did she dare?

...Sure, why not?

"It's—is it Gilly Weed, Professor?" she said shyly, her brown eyes rising to meet the Professor's green ones.

Professor Longbottom nodded in the affirmative and smiled, "Yes—but next time, don't doubt yourself. Ten points to Ravenclaw."

Roxanne beamed inwardly as she sat back in her chair. Insanity wasn't half bad.


	2. Breakfast

A/N: Hullo! Chapter numbah Two, and by the way, they're meant to be short. Reviews are appreciated. :)

Disclaimer: (I forgot this last the time, sue me.)

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It was Breakfast.

Roxanne always sat next to her best friend and fellow fourth year, Arlinda Jordan at Breakfast. Her cousin, Rose Weasley, a second year, sat on her other side.

From the other end of the long, food-covered table, Roxanne could hear Franklin Longbottom, captain of her house's Quidditch team, giving a passionate speech about this year being "Ravenclaw's year." Roxanne was a Keeper for Ravenclaw –and a damn good one, mind you—and, consequently, she'd heard this same speech many times before.

She could recite it herself, actually. (She knew this for a fact, for she had tried it the previous week.)

She chuckled. Franklin reminded her of her mother's friend, Oliver Wood, who played for the Puddlemeres. Franklin was a really good friend, and he was talented at Quidditch, and he was pretty good-looking, too…

Roxanne blinked. Frankie Longbottom, she thought, my _friend_, Frankie Longbottom.

Shaking her head lightly to clear her brain of any potential romantic thoughts centered on a certain sandy-brown haired boy named Franklin, she remembered that she had a foot-long Potions parchment due soon.

Better get started on that then, she thought.

Yes, this _is _the daughter of George Weasley.

However, this is also the daughter of Angelina Johnson, and the (favorite) niece of a certain Hermoine Granger Weasley.

That counts for something.

"Where're you goin', Roxy?" asked Arlinda as Roxanne rose from her seat.

"Oh, I'm just going to the library. You know we have that parchment in Potions due soon. I need to get started."

"Rox_anne_," Arlinda sighed, knowing that there was no getting her back, even though the parchment wasn't _due_ for two weeks and three days. Even as a Ravenclaw, Arlinda knew that this was something she could put off for a little while.

But not _Roxy_, she thought. "You spend too much time with your aunt, you know that?"

"You mean, the Headmistress? Yes, I do try to stay on her good side." Roxanne said, and afterwards, as a flippant afterthought: "Most of the time."

"Huh, " said Rose, looking up from her hotcakes. The mention of her mother had gotten her attention. "And what about last week, when you shoved that Chocolate Frog down Cormac McLaggen's trousers and launched a Canary Cream at his face?"

Right. This _is,_ definitely, George Weasley's daughter.

Roxanne snorted. "Oh, you and I both know he deserved that. And, you want to know what Aunt Hermione said? She said, 'Next time, do try to get the Canary Cream _in_ his mouth.'"

Rose and Arlinda laughed. Roxanne waved behind her as she headed off to the library, and blushed ever-so-slightly when she passed her _friend, _her very good_ friend_, Franklin Longbottom.


	3. Jim

A/N: Hi there. I updated two days in a row... Yippee for me! Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue. Everybody happy.

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"Hey, Roxy,"

Roxanne sat at a table in the library with several open books spilled out in front of her. Her dark brown curls fell into her face as she diligently and methodically scored her parchment with notes. She had been like that for hours. When she heard her name, she looked up.

It was her cousin, and the eldest child of (cue the fanfare) The Boy Who Lived and Saved Our Arses on Multiple Occasions, James Sirius Potter.

Naturally, she called him Jim.

"'Sup, Jim?" she said, looking back down at her notes.

James pulled up a chair next to her and propped his chin on his elbow, yawning, "Oh, nothing. I'm pretty bored actually."

"Huh," said Roxanne, still writing away.

"So I'd thought I'd come to the _library_. Makes perfect sense, right?"

"Sure does," she mumbled in response. She hadn't looked back up at James since he sat down.

"Hey Roxanne," he said. She looked up. "I, er, I get the feeling that you're busy."

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. "And _what_, pray tell, gave you _that_ idea, James?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just wanted a family member to talk t—"

"I'm _busy_, Jim."

"Ouch. Well then, some cousin _you_ are," he said, grinning.

He'd known all along that Roxanne was busy. The utter _prat_, Roxanne thought.

He rose from the table and pushed the chair in. "I'll be going then. Don't forget that we have a practice game this evening. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Should be _epic_."

"Right."

"Seriously Roxy, don't forget. I mean, what's Ravenclaw without its star Keeper?"

"About two times better than Gryffindor with all its players intact."

"Oi, Roxy. Don't talk smack."


	4. Lorc and Ly

A/N: Reviews, as always, are appreciated.

Disclaimer: We'll see.

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Roxanne sat back in her seat, folded her hands behind her head, and propped her feet up on the table triumphantly. Huzzah, she thought.

She was done.

Ten inches of parchment on the properties and uses of the herb, Damiana.

It was quite curious actually. According to Mexican folklore, it was "the original Margarita." And in Australia, it was used (smoked) for its synergistic and relaxing effects.

I should tell Dad about this, she thought. This could be _exactly_ what he's looking for to improve the Daydream Charms. Oh, this'll make his day…I'll have to owl him and tell him to come to the Hogsmeade branch next weekend…

"Roxanne, are you _quite_ finished? Or will you be another _five hours_?"

She recognized the voice as that of Lorcan Scamander, of the Scamander twins, two third years that were Ravenclaw's Beaters.

She looked up to see that they were decked in royal blue Quidditch robes.

Roxanne stood up instantly, and, frantically, started to pack her things. "The game's started, hasn't it? Oh my God, Frankie's gonna be so mad, and J-"

Lorcan held up a gloved hand to silence her. She looked up at the twins, who were both a head taller than she.

Lysander was smiling, a wide, goofy grin. "Now, now, Roxy." He said bemusedly. "Don't get your knickers in a knot. The game's not started yet."

Lorcan nodded, "Yeah, we've got your Quidditch robes right here." At Roxanne's questioning glance, he added, "Arlinda got them out of your room for us. You can change in the locker room. Come, we'll walk you down to the pitch."

With that, the twins stepped on either side of her, and the trio made their way out of the library.

"You work too hard." Lorcan or Lysander stated. She couldn't tell who.

She sighed. "Yeah, I know. It can't be helped, I'm afraid,"

Lorcan and Lysander looked down at her in question. "_What_ can't be helped?" they simultaneously inquired.

Wait. Awww, bloody Hell. That time in Herbology I was just joking with myself, she thought. But now, as it is…

"I'm mental, aren't I?"

Lorcan shrugged. "Probably so. But there's no big surprise there. I mean, look at your family."

"Your _father_," Lysander elaborated. "Not that we've the right to be cheeky, ourselves. You _know_ our mother…"

"So, I guess what we're saying is," started Lorcan, "Join the club."

Lysander ruffled her hair in a brotherly manner before throwing an arm around her shoulder.

Roxanne clicked her tongue. "Glad to know _you_ two think no less of me. Now, how _shall_ I break this to Linda? I think I'll keep it hushed for a while."

"She'd still accept you, you know. You're best mates. Hell, your _parents_ are best mates. But we'll keep quiet. Won't we, Lorc?" Said Lysander.

"Won't utter a word, Ly." Said Lorcan. "Oi, Rox, duck your head, will you? There's a nargyle trying to land in your hair."

"Right foul things, nargyles," muttered Lysander, swatting at the air above Roxanne's head.


End file.
